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Chapter Sixteen: Remain


“Where in hell did you learn how to drive, ‘Ro?” Logan asked the second she cut the motorbike’s engine.

Laughing, she turned to him, unfastening her helmet and shaking her snow-white hair.

“Scott, believe it or not,” she replied, her face suddenly screwing into an expression of horror as she reached behind her.

He swung his leg over the bike, staring in shock at Ororo’s back, which was covered in blood. Panic rising inside him, he reached forward, lifting her shirt up as he searched for the cause.

“It is not mine, Logan,” she said quickly, nearly jumping from the bike. “It is yours.”

Looking down at his own shirt, he shrugged, lifting it to bare the skin beneath a large bloodstain. “It was. All healed up. You hurt?”

She shook her glorious head worry still furrowing her brow. “Not at all, although I expect a little bruising from blocking.”

With a grunt, he grabbed her helmet and handed her the coat she had not bothered with during their escape. A hand on her lower back, he ushered her into the mansion, bracing himself for the flying ball of tears that would be Rogue.

Almost the instant he stepped through the doorway, there was a cry of “LOGAN!” and he was hit with the slender body of a seventeen year old girl, her little arms wrapping around him tightly.

“Hey, kid. I’m ok. We’re both ok,” he assured her, pulling back to kiss her hair.

“The Professor said there was some kind of trouble,” Cyclops said as he entered the hall with Jean and Hank hot on his heels.

“Storm!” Jean rushed forward, obviously spotting the blood on her shirt.

“I am uninjured,” his dark lover said softly. “Logan bled on me is all.”

Cyclops stopped directly in front of Logan, his mouth in a tight line. At first, Logan assumed he was in for a lecture about leaving the damned mansion without warning anyone. Or maybe he wanted to harp on them stealing his precious bike again. He was not, however, prepared for the hardy slap on the shoulder.
“Had us worried,” Scott said sincerely. “We were about to suit up when Jean sensed you were close by.”

Trying to not gape in complete shock, Logan nodded with a grunt.

“Thanks.”

An uncomfortable silence was broken when the Professor wheeled into the room, looking over them both carefully. His blue gaze paused on Logan, then on Ororo as if trying to assess the damage.

“A police report has already been filed about the body at the bottom of the cliff,” his eyes shot back to Logan. “But as the victim smelled rather badly of alcohol, they assume it was an accident. None of your attackers have come forward.”

Surprising even Logan, Ororo marched up to the Professor, thunder clapping loudly above them. One look at his lover’s tense form and he bolted across the room, running over the table to stand behind her.

“You frightened me, Charles!” she shouted. “How could you do that to me?”

Confused, Logan looked to Jean. She inclined her head just so and a moment later, she was inside his mind.

The Professor projected fear into her so that she would notice something was wrong. With her mental shields up, it was hard to break into her mind to warn her.

That’s nice of him. She smelled fuckin’ terrified.

I think he went a little overboard, yes.

Great. Nice goin’, Chuck.

There was a long silence, broken only by Ororo’s massive thunderclaps above. Logan tentatively reached out, taking her arm gently and leaning forward to whisper into her ear.

“Not now, darlin’. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

Chuck sighed heavily, shaking his head.

“You forget, Ororo, how strong your mental shields are. I did not wish to harm you by breaking them,” he apologized gently.

Logan felt ‘Ro take a deep breath, the thunder rumbling as it retreated. Keeping his hold on her arm, Logan sensed her tension subside and without warning, she kissed Chuck’s forehead.
“Never again, Charles. Promise me that,” she whispered. Logan’s advanced hearing ensured that no one else heard her words.

“You have that promise, my dear,” he vowed just as softly.

“Now that’s settled,” Logan said more loudly than he needed to. “Just how in hell did you know what was goin’ on?”

The Professor looked around at them all, sizing them up one by one. He closed his eyes for a moment and soon Jubilee, Bobby, Hank, and Peter joined them.

“Sit down, all of you,” he commanded, leaving no room for argument.

Logan grabbed a chair from the dining room, turning it over so he could straddle it. Scott and Jean took the loveseat. Peter, Bobby, Rogue and Jubilee crammed themselves onto the sofa and Ororo perched on the armrest that happened to be right next to Logan. Hank occupied an overstuffed armchair that seemed much too small for his huge form.

Pressing his fingers into that now familiar triangle, the Professor began to speak.

“I received a tip only an hour ago from one of my contacts in the FBI that a radical anti-mutant group has been active in the last few months. They call themselves “Friends of Humanity” and their goal is the elimination of all mutants.”

“Elimination?” Scott asked from his seat.

“They firmly believe that all mutants should be rounded up and murdered, for the sake of humanity’s survival,” Chuck went on. “And they will stop at nothing to see that goal come to fruition.”

“One of the men that attacked us was the same asshole that took a shot at ‘Ro,” Logan chimed in, claws poking at his skin the more he thought about it.

“Logan,” his lover instantly chided for his swearing before she went on. “The first I saw was the ringleader of the attack on Kitty and Rogue a few weeks ago.”

“Do you think the incidents are related?” Jean asked, her green eyes filled with worry.

The Professor was silent for a moment, the scent of anxiety so powerful Logan nearly sneezed. To his horror, Chuck’s eyes rested on Storm.

“I believe they are hunting Ororo.”

Stunned silence followed this statement. Logan’s claws very nearly unsheathed as the urge to locate the bastards overwhelmed him. A delicate hand pressed against his, preventing him from allowing the adamantium to rip through his flesh.

“Professor?” Storm’s voice was as calm as ever, not even a hint of fear reached Logan’s sensitive nose.

“Your appearance in Chicago was unexpected, at least to the Friends. However, it is my belief that when they saw a demonstration of your power, you became their greatest enemy.”

“Fear turns tah hate,” Rogue said quietly, her eyes on Storm.

“That it does, my girl,” Ororo replied, still as cool as ever.

“Ororo, I am afraid I must confine you to the grounds until we can locate the man with a price on your head. I am sorry, my child, but I fear for your safety until we can manage this threat,” Chuck told her as gently as one could make a prison sound.

“Yeah. Which’ll be in about five fuckin’ minutes,” Logan snarled, standing from his chair.

“I’m coming with you,” One-Eye said as he jumped up from the couch. “We’ll take the car back to the cliff and see if you can pick up a scent…”

“Stop!”

Both men turned to Storm, whom was standing beside the Professor. She glared at Logan intently, shaking her head from side to side gently.

“It will not do to have you both out there without any hint as to what you are up against. Please, remain here. For my sake,” she said in a ringing tone.

Goddamn it, ‘Ro, he thought bitterly.

One look to Cyclops told him the other man shared his sentiment. Neither of them could deny a direct request from her, especially once Jean moved to join her, looking just as angry as Ororo did.

“You’re not helping,” Jean snapped. “We should stick together and formulate a plan.”

“I agree. Scott, will accompany me to the War Room. Jean, Henry, and Bobby will take the jet to Washington, Director Jameson is waiting to meet with you,” the Professor’s orders were clipped and final.

“Storm, begin an intensive training schedule with Rogue, Colossus, Jubilee and Wolverine against fighting human opponents and without use of your powers.”

The last command had a strange air about it, making Logan’s eyes dart to Storm, whom stared at their leader in surprise.

But it was Scott who spoke next. “We’re dividing the X-Men into two teams. I’m going to lead the Blue Team and Storm will lead the Gold Team.”

Logan could almost hear the jaws dropping to the floor from everyone in the room. Ororo blinked rapidly, looking from a smiling Scott to a nodding Xavier, her hands trembling as she tried to process what they were saying.

“Jubilee, of course, is merely a reserve until she has had more training. She will remain here as your contact, should you need to leave for a mission, until next summer.”

That didn’t stop the youngest member of the Gold Team from grinning. At least she knew she was now considered an X-Man.

“They aren’t ready,” Logan blurted quickly. “They need more training.”

“Unfortunately, Logan, we don’t have time. With the Brotherhood of Mutants, the remnants of Stryker’s task force and now the Friends of Humanity, we must remain on guard,” came the cool response.

“We know this is a big change, but we think it’s for the best,” Scott continued. “Besides, I like to think Storm deserves a promotion.”

All eyes turned to the white-haired mutant woman, whom took a few steps, enveloping Scott in an affectionate hug. Logan had to trample the urge to throttle him, reminding himself that they were closer than brother and sister.

When they broke apart, Scott looked over her shoulder to the Professor.

“What do you say, Professor, can the Blue Team’s mission wait one night? We should celebrate.”

He gave the Blue Team leader a small smile, nodding his agreement.

“Yes, though I ask you remain on the grounds during your celebration.”

The youngest X-Men cheered and began talking at once, Scott and Logan looked at one another and nodded.

“We’ll go to the store,” they said in unison.

Unfortunately, no one was fooled and Hank went to the market with Peter.

~@~


Things had gone well in the month since the X-Men had been broken into teams. Students had begun to trickle back into the mansion from the middle of July onward, until the place was brimming with laughter and childish bickering. Logan and Ororo found themselves frequent babysitters as they worked toward a new school year.

Jean and Bobby had returned from Washington two days after leaving. They had said, rather sadly, that Hank had remained behind to try and ferret out more information from the FBI. According to his weekly reports, he was having very little luck.

Training had been grueling, mostly because Ororo was never satisfied with the way the team performed. She and Logan had many an argument regarding that particular quirk of hers, and she usually ended them by pulling rank and pushing the team through yet another session. He usually took out his anger on the first unsuspecting hologram. It worked for them.

Of course, her method seemed to have merit. The team was pulling together, working as one seamless unit. Even Jubilee had taken a serious turn, pushing herself harder than anyone else did. She and Rogue had an eerie way of knowing what the other was doing and it worked nearly every time.

Rogue was also taking private lessons in some of the more deadly arts with Logan. They scheduled practices at ridiculous hours of the day or night, working until the girl could barely move. He knew it was because she felt vulnerable, and she knew that he knew.

Colossus had snapped out of his post-Kitty haze, though Logan heard rumblings around the mansion that Kitty had called any kind of relationship with him off. For a day or two, he had withdrawn completely, but after Storm got hold of him, he returned to the living world and seemed to be getting along fine.

Scott’s Blue Team was doing just as well, if not better. It was an older team, with the exception of Bobby, who took to missions and training like a duck to water. Jean and Scott had high praise for him and Jubilee, who trained with both teams and remained a wildcard, was constantly going on about his developing skills.

Hank was due home within a few days, taking over the science classes to help ease the burden on the other teachers. All in all, it was one hell of a hectic lifestyle, prompting Logan to ask ‘Ro about running away every day.

Of course, he wouldn’t. He had promises to keep to two different women, one of whom was confined to the grounds for as long as the Professor deemed necessary. Everyone attempted to entertain her when they could, but she was run ragged by the start of the school year anyway.

That fact irritated Logan to no end.

It became apparent nearly as soon as the students arrived that half of them depended on Ororo for just about everything. While Rogue, Bobby, and Peter worked for their teaching credentials, they leaned on Storm for any tiny amount of help she could provide. Jean and Scott constantly had one crisis or another that they needed her advice for and the Professor couldn’t go two hours without requesting her presence in his office.

That left Logan, who had his own classes and training exercises to plan, with very little time alone with his lover. The “honeymoon phase” as Scott called it, was definitely over. At best, she would fall into bed around midnight, curl up in his arms and pass out after he received his token kiss.

To say he was sexually frustrated was extremely mild. Ororo had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, her voice reaching a slightly higher pitch only he could detect with every urgent summons. He held her when she slept, if only to assure her he was not going to lash out because of their sudden lack of physical intimacy. He knew, without a doubt, that his frustration had not gone unnoticed.

“Logan?”

Ororo’s voice brought him sharply from his musings. He lay across her bed, still undressed as the dawn light stained the sky out of doors. Looking over to the bathroom door, he grinned at her own state of undress.

Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, she had a toothbrush in her mouth, clad in only a t-shirt at least one size too small and a pair of lacy panties…and socks, of course. She smiled at him around her mouthful of toothpaste, raising a brow.

“Are you nervous?”

“Bout what?” he grunted, hardening the longer he stared at her.

“Your first day of school, my Logan,” she said, taking the toothbrush from her mouth quickly.

He’d become quite used to the endearment, expecting it at their most intimate moments…such as just after a bath or brushing one’s teeth. He could see those events were more important to her than a thousand climactic moments of bliss. It was her way of laying a claim to him, not that he minded in the least.

“I’m not five, ‘Ro,” he returned, flipping onto his side so she wouldn’t be confronted with his responsive body. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just remember, no hitting,” she winked at him, turning back into the bathroom to finish her grooming.

He growled as softly as he could, watching the sway of her hips as she bent to rinse the mint-toothpaste from her mouth. If he had to go without sex, she definitely needed to stop being so damn sexy.

He knew he had to get up. The older students had a Danger Room session first thing, and that included a run around the grounds. After that, he had the youngest for P.E., which consisted of dodgeball and stretching. He called that his “break”. Just after lunch, the middle group came in for an introduction course in self-defense and his last class was Tactics and Battle training.

That had been his idea, which Scott seemed a little unnerved by. He actually had a classroom for that one, where he would showcase battles of both mutants and humans while discussing various strategies and tactics.

‘Ro had a full schedule as well, her history courses were usually very in depth, given her meticulous ways. He had the distinct impression that he was going to need every hint of restraint in his body just to make it through the day without pouncing on her.

“Logan?” her voice brought him up sharply again.

She stood beside the bed, still undressed, and without a hint of makeup. Sniffing the air, he inwardly smirked when he could still smell himself on her. How he had slipped so easily into this relationship was a bit of a blur, but it was obvious to him that Ororo was his match. He was holding on to that with both hands and duct tape.

For some reason, it did not bother him that they had never come right out and said those three little words that would have “sealed the deal”.

“What in the world are you thinking about?” she questioned, moving a little closer.

“You,” he said honestly.

Smiling prettily, she kneeled on the bed, shifting quickly until she sat astride his thighs. The simple action made him bite back a groan, his hands sliding over her muscled legs.

“What about me?”

“I want you,” he fairly growled, arching his hips up for emphasis.

“Do you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He inhaled sharply, catching the scent of arousal coming from her as she rocked her hips back into his.

“Playin’ with fire, darlin’,” Logan warned.

“Playing would insinuate that I am teasing you, my Logan,” she whispered, leaning down to speak against his lips. “I intend on doing far more than tease.”

He looked at her cautiously for a moment, trying to ignore the thudding in his veins, the howling ache deep inside of him that screamed for her touch, to be joined with her again.

“Yeah?” his groaned as her hands smoothed over his bare chest, nails scraping over his flat nipples.

“It has been far too long,” she licked his bottom lip. “And I do believe we have thirty minutes before we have to be downstairs.”

“Fair enough,” he growled in response.

Snikt!

He unsheathed a claw, slipping it under the hem of her too-small t-shirt, dragging the blunt end across her skin. Ororo’s hips twisted in his lap, her head falling back as she moaned his name.

“An’ here I was, thinkin’ how you like the non-sex stuff,” he quipped, pulling his hand forward quickly, effectively ripping the front of her shirt in half.

“There is a time and place for everything, Logan,” Ororo gasped as he dragged the adamantium down the smooth expanse of her belly, eyes on her swaying chocolate breasts.

He slid the claw to her thighs, watching as she shifted so he could work it under the stringy band of her panties to slice them as well. This had to be the fifth time her clothing had come off via adamantium. If they weren’t careful, she’d have no clothes left.

“Why does this turn you on?” he grunted under the steady rocking of her hips, pulling her shredded shirt and panties from her.

“Because it is you, Logan, a part of you. Any part of your body creates an ache within me,” she whimpered in response.

Logan was damn glad he tended to sleep in the buff. She had pulled the blanket away at some point and the instant her panties were off, the smell of her wetness hit him like a Mack truck, her words sinking into that tucked away part of his soul he reserved for himself alone.

Before he could move, Ororo took matters into her own hands. Literally. With a scoot on his thighs, a hand on his aching arousal and a twist of her hips, he was inside of her, eyes crossing at the exquisite feel of her enveloping him completely.

“Jesus, ‘Ro,” he gasped harshly, reaching up to palm her breasts.

“Logan,” she groaned. “Too long.”

“No…shit…ah, God.”

He sat up as best he could, his hips bucking to meet her every move. Clamping his mouth over her taut nipple, he felt the wind around them kick up. Ororo’s hand fisted in his hair, keeping him in place as she upped the pace of her thrusts just a little.

Growls mixed with her sultry moans filled the room. It was early, so not many were moving about on the teacher’s level. At least that gave the kids some measure of ignorance as to what was happening.

Their bodies quickly coated in sweet, Logan’s skin tingling with the electric current Ororo always supplied during their lovemaking. He took his mouth from her nipple, latching onto the pulse point of her neck. Her head was thrown back, giving him complete access to her soft skin.

His free hand worked its way between them as he pulled her mouth to his, tasting the mint of her toothpaste and that hint of chocolate she always seemed to have on her. Her tongue swept into his mouth, dueling with his for dominance just as his fingertips located the bundle of nerves beneath the white curls at the juncture of her thighs.

He could feel the slickness of her arousal soaking them both, while he rolled her clit between his wet fingers. She groaned into his mouth, her hips jerking as she rode him. He would always find a measure of perfection this way. There was nothing between them, no school, no missions, no FoH bastards out for her blood. Only their labored breathing, aching bodies and pounding hearts were present in this embrace.

Logan took his mouth from hers, falling back against the bed as her inner muscles tightened and released around him. He gripped her hips in his hands, guiding her over him, hoping she would reach climax before he did. His eyes traveled to where they were joined, watching his cock slip in and out of her as she moved.

“Aw, fuck,” he growled, not able to tear his gaze away.

Ororo’s eyes were on him, he could feel it, and her suddenly harsh gasps told him she liked what she saw.

“Harder,” she panted on a moan.

Answering her plea, Logan’s fingertips dug into her hips, holding her in place while he thrust upward. Not finding the friction he needed, he growled, sitting up and pushing her onto her back. Long, dark legs instantly hooked over his shoulders and his next thrust took him deeper inside her.

Letting himself go, he heard the wind screaming around them, not caring who knew what they were up to. Ororo clenched her teeth together, obviously holding back a very loud scream. Logan could feel her inner walls clench him tightly and he knew it was close.

Pounding into her almost savagely, Logan fisted his hands in the comforter of her bed. She was always perfect, always hotter, tighter, wetter than he remembered. It was like the first time, every single time. Something about that made it damn near indescribable.

“Logan…”

“’Ro…fuck…”

She reached up, gripping his shoulders with one hand, the other sliding between them to rub her clitoris frantically. Throwing his own head back, he growled loudly, the sound carried away by her furious winds, spilling himself into her with a few more rigid thrusts.

Ororo climaxed a beat later, the veins in her throat protruding with her restraint as she fought back a scream. He leaned down to suckle the thick ropes of her veins as she came down from her high, her body relaxing against his.

Logan finally allowed himself to collapse, rolling at the last possible moment to prevent crushing her to death with the weight of his metallic skeleton.

They lay that way for a moment, breathing hard, as Ororo reigned in her mutation. The wind died down, their post-coital glow interrupted by a polite knock on the door.

“Scott Summers, if you do not leave immediately, I will allow Wolverine to disembowel you. And I will enjoy it!” his lover called, making him chuckle.

“Just saying…”

“More discreet, I know, Scott…but there are times when that simply is not an option.”

“Leaving!”

Running footsteps told Logan that Cyclops had taken his leave, probably more because he didn’t want details rather than fear of Ororo’s threat.

“I fear we must move, Logan,” she said, groaning as she sat up. “We do have class.”

Logan nodded, sliding off of her bed, testing the air with his mutated nose. He loved to smell him on her, the heady scent of her, sex, and him. It made his animalistic side of him want to strut. Mine.

“Yes, Logan, yours,” she said quietly, standing.

He startled, realizing he’d said that last bit aloud.

“Do not worry, my darling,” she whispered, kissing his lips gently. “I do not mind belonging to you.”

Logan’s mouth refused to work. She pointed those fathomless blue eyes to him, the undisguised emotion in them making his knees weak.

“The question is have you found a place where you belong?”

He remembered their talk in One-Eye’s classroom weeks before, when she had asked him a similar question. At the time, he didn’t have an answer, and with it staring him in the face now, he felt a twinge of apprehension. Had he? After all these years was he content to live among children and geeks fighting for a lost cause?

“I think so,” he replied, unable to think clearly when she looked at him that way.

Her smile said more than a thousand words. “Progress.”

He grunted. She laughed. And the world was right again.





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